


Imperfect Boys

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, Haphephobia, M/M, Sensitivity, Soliloquy, joetrick - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23552878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: I think I write about disorders for coping mechanisms. That’s the only thing that could explain my obsession.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Joe Trohman
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Imperfect Boys

**Author's Note:**

> I’m an idiot. Before you object like an annoying grandma, let me tell you why. I listened to the entire American Beauty/American Psycho album thinking it was a remix of Folie a Deux songs. I was skeptical at parts, but then I reminded myself that my initial instinct was right. I only stopped thinking this when the album was over before I had finished the fifth lap around my neighborhood. It usually ends after the tenth.
> 
> To give you a perspective on how scattered this proves I am, I listen to every song on Folie a Deux when I go on my walk every morning. It gives me a feeling of control over my life, even though I freak out if I don’t listen to the songs in order and if certain songs don’t start or stop at certain points in my walk. I go on my walk everyday with the same songs everyday in the same order everyday. BUT YET I THOUGHT AB/AP WAS FOLIE A DEUX REMIXED FOR THIRTY MINUTES. 
> 
> Apparently there’s a gland in my brain dedicated to screwing me over. I mean, there’s way more than one, but this certain one needs to be evicted.

Patrick hated being touched. He just couldn’t stand it, and he refused any form of contact. Even from Pete, who he trusted with his life. Joe observed from the side, but couldn’t resist the thought of how much he wanted to give Patrick a hug. Not for sympathy or anything, but because he really thought Patrick was cute. 

In the tour bus, Patrick kept to himself. He stared at the floor, muttering to himself. He muttered constantly, quietly, and without any clear expression. He leaned forward and rocked back and forth as he talked to himself. Pete was sitting next to him, asking him questions. 

“What... what are you thinking?” he tried. 

Patrick shook his head. “Please don’t talk to me I’m trying to think.” 

“About what?” 

“N-Nothing. Just please don’t talk to me.” Patrick blushed and muttered quicker. He sounded like an auctioneer. 

Pete sighed, “Patrick, you can’t be antisocial like that. I’m trying to talk to you.” 

Joe leaned forward. He wasn’t sure what to do. Pete was pushing his friend’s limits, but Patrick was also muttering. He decided to intervene, but lightly. “Pete,” he said calmly, “If you want to talk with someone, I’m sure Andy’s in the back.” He pointed his thumb to the back of the bus. 

Pete knit his eyebrows together. “B-But—“ 

“Pete,” Joe warned. 

Pete huffed and stood up. “I’d like to see _you_ get him to talk.” He walked off dramatically. Not the hot or funny kind of dramatic, but the childish kind. Joe rolled his eyes and sat next to Patrick. He didn’t say anything at first, but just sat there and leaned back. Patrick talked, but only when he didn’t have to make eye contact. 

“I-I-I... I really just want this tour to be perfect,” he said, “Last time it wasn’t, and I’m scared for this one.” 

Joe kept staring at the floor as he responded, “What went wrong?” 

“O-October seventh. I accidentally started muttering when Pete got close to me, even though I’ve talked about it with him and told him it was okay. I... I can’t handle it.” 

“Well, that was last year.” 

“No shit.” 

Joe looked to Patrick, who was shaking and fidgeting. “Patrick,” he warned, “I’m trying to help you.” He put his hand on Patrick’s shoulder lightly.

Patrick tensed up. “I’m sorry,” he shuddered, “Please... please don’t touch me.” 

Joe moved his hand back. “Sorry, Patrick.”

”You didn’t do anything. You were saying something about last year?” Patrick looked up at Joe and made eye contact. He darted his eyes away for a second, but forced himself to look him in the eye. Joe smiled. 

“Thanks for the eye contact,” he beamed, “About last year, it’s been a full two years since that. I remember it, and it was all over the news, but people forgot by now. And if they didn’t get over it, they wouldn’t be coming to our shows.” 

Patrick nodded and forced a smile. “I guess you’re right. I guess I was being irrational and I guess I was being unaware and I guess I was being awkward.” 

Joe shook his head. “You’re not, though.” 

“I’m not saying I am. I’m saying the action I took part in held the qualities of irrational, unaware, and awkward. You’re putting words in my mouth.” Patrick scooted closer to him. He gently put his head on the guitarist’s shoulder and sighed. Joe reached his hand over, but Patrick shook his head. “You smell nice. Like a doctor’s office. I can’t believe I’ve never wanted to be this close to you. Especially considering the fact that I’m in love with you.” 

Joe stopped in his tracks. Patrick usually vented about random things, but it was never this deep. “Patrick, you do know you just said that you love me out loud?”

Patrick took his head off Joe’s shoulder. “I wasn’t supposed to?” he guessed. 

“No no no, you’re fine,” Joe whimpered at the lack of touch. “I was just surprised.” 

Patrick nodded, but didn’t smile. In a flash of movement, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Joe’s. It wasn’t a short kiss, though. It was full contact, with eyes closed and hands trembling as they found their way to each other. Joe went with it, reaching for Patrick’s jacket. Patrick pulled back and broke the kiss, staring at Joe’s hand. “I mean...” he muttered to himself for a few seconds before returning to conversation. “It’s okay if you touch me. I promise I won’t back away.” 

Joe chuckled softly and leaned in. Patrick backed away again. He whispered under his breath, but he meant for Joe to hear it. “What if we count down from a number? I know I was spontaneous the first time but I was scared and I felt like I had to.” 

“Patrick, you didn’t _have_ to do anything.” 

“Maybe I felt like I did. I just want to count down this time, okay?” He nervously leaned his forehead against Joe’s forehead, reaching up to touch the guitarist’s chocolate hair. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what? I’ll count down if it makes you feel safe,” Joe offered. 

Patrick smiled, and it brightened the whole room. It wasn’t the fake smile he put on for fans or cameras. It was his real smile. Joe was speechless, holding back every urge to kiss him just for his dazzling smile. He held back, though. Patrick’s smile faded. He saw right through him. “I made you uncomfortable,” he said softly.

Joe shook his head. “No, you—“

“I made you uncomfortable,” Patrick stated again, “And it’s best if I just kiss you right now because I don’t know what to do.” 

“Interesting solution,” Joe remarked. 

Patrick blushed. “I’m going to count down, okay? 3-2-1 kiss me.” He pressed their open mouths together, their tongues clashing. Joe closed his eyes and sighed. He pulled on Patrick’s waist. Patrick was an amazing kisser, it turned out. He moved his tongue and lips in just the right way to make Joe want to kiss him forever on that couch. 

“Patrick...” he gasped. 

Patrick broke away. His lips were pink and swollen, but he still kept the same lost-puppy expression. “Wh-What?” 

Joe smiled and shook his head. “Nothing. Just saying your name.” 

“Why _do_ people moan the name of who they’re kissing?” Patrick cleared the hair dangling over his lover’s eyes. Joe shrugged. 

“It just feels right. What else would I say?” 

“Nothing, perhaps,” Patrick snuck between Joe’s legs and kissed him again. His shaking hands pressed down on Joe’s pale hips. Joe gazed up at him, silently asking for permission to flip them over. Patrick nodded, kissing him as he tumbled onto his back. “I don’t usually want to be touched,” he began, “And I’ll probably keep my distance for a while after this.” 

Joe waited a few seconds before saying, “Is there a second part to that?” 

Patrick cocked his head. “No. I’m seriously telling you that I’m scared because this is emotionally draining. I’m terrified of being touched like this.” 

Joe hovered over him, considering getting away from Patrick and giving him space. “Do you want me to leave? That’s... that’s not a threat in any way.” 

Patrick tugged him by the hoodie. “No. Please, no. I love you, and I want to do what people do when they love each other. B-Because that’s love, right? Constant contact and an exciting love life?” 

Joe’s eyes softened. “No... not at all. That part’s optional. There’s so much more to love than sexuality.” 

“Then let’s do that,” Patrick pushed Joe off of him and forced them on separate sides of the couch. Joe didn’t even think about how quickly Patrick could turn off. Well, it’s not like he was “on” in the first place. He just acted comfortable. 

“Was the kiss real?” he asked. 

Patrick blushed and nodded. “I wanted to kiss you. It was fake when I pinned you down.” 

Joe sighed with relief and leaned back into the furniture. “I love you so much, you know?” 

Patrick smiled. “I love you too. I don’t think I’ve talked to myself in the past ten minutes.” He stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. “I guess I was too busy with you. Besides, I normally muttered about how I thought you didn’t love me back. The rest was just random nonsense or freaking out about people who tried to touch me over the course of the day.” 

“And that’s why at night...?”

”I’m most intense at night, yes. Thank god Pete isn’t here to make a dirty joke out of that.” 

“I’m the second biggest Dirty Joke King in this band, remember? I won’t tease you, though.” 

Patrick smiled and reached out to hold his hand loosely. “Thank you.” 

Joe sat in an awkward silence for about a minute before making a realization. “We should probably have some form of _closure_ , just so I can get the sense that this conversation is over and I can move on with my thoughts.” 

Patrick rose one eyebrow. He smirked, too. This was a really hot and mysterious look for him, but Joe knew he’d be dead if he said that out loud. Patrick squeezed his hand once and said, “You think conversations end? Well let me tell you something. This conversation is never over. Do you wish to put the conversation on hold?” 

Joe nodded. Of course Patrick phrased it that way. It was unbearably cute, though. “Yes, I wish to put it on hold,” he replied. 

The corners of Patrick’s lips flicked upwards for a second, but it was over quickly. “It is settled. We’ll talk later, but silence for now.” 

“Silence?” 

Patrick had no reply. He truly meant silence. Romantic, half-cuddling silence. 

**Author's Note:**

> Clean comments!


End file.
